Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Frank's
evening is shot to hell when he finds out that Ralph Penwarren is
missing from his room and off wandering around, no doubt causing
trouble. Frank had told him to stay in his room, because he'd caused
so much trouble during the day. Getting all the spare staff members
he can find, Frank divides them into search parties. He's paired up
with a young orderly named Matthew.

"So,
who is this guy?" Matthew asked.

Frank
explained to him who Ralph Penwarren was.

"Oh,
him! Yeah, what a prick. Friend of mine was out for a smoke. The old,
fat guy's out there, right? Wouldn't give him a light. Like butane's
gold or something. Billy went most of his break without a smoke. Had
to hotbox it."

"Yet
another reason I gave up smoking," Frank replied. "Has he
completely alienated the entire staff?"

"Just
about. I've heard people bitching about him all day. I'm on a double,
Matt explained.

"I
wish I knew how he got out. I can't believe no one spotted him."

"Prolly
waited until the guard left and took off. I know you had a guy
outside, but a man's gotta piss sometime, dig?"

"Yeah.
He should have had someone relieve him first."

"Well,
if the fat guy was bribing other people, maybe he bribed the guard
too? I mean, it's possible, right?"

"That
had crossed my mind. I hate to think one of my people would do that."

"Dude,
we all have a price. I gotta admit, some guy offers me a hundred
bucks to look the other way so he can sneak out, I'd think about it."

"What
if he offered you another hundred to get him in his mother's room?"

"I
have the same problem sometimes." Frank stopped walking at the
end of the hall, just before they started down the stairs. "If I
were a mean spirited, antisocial sociopath, where would I
go for fun?" He looked left and right, shrugging exaggeratedly.
"Oh, I dunno," he said in a high, kid type voice. "Gee,
whiz, Unca Frankie! I think I'll go to Disneyland!"

The
young orderly laughed. It echoed down the stairs. "Come on,
boss. He's not that bad, is he?"

"He's
a murder victim waiting for a killer," Frank replied as he
headed down the stairs.

"Damn.
I thought he was just some mean, old, fat guy."

"He's
Satan's Hell Spawn."

A
strange sound filtered up from the ground floor. Frank held up his
fist, using battle signs instinctively. He gestured to the kid to
stay where he was and headed down.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Frank
and Marka start dating. Happy in one another's company, they decide
to have dinner together. Penwarren is still being a pain in the butt,
so Frank decides he'd better stay longer than he'd planned. He and
Marka go by his house to get more of his clothing and he's in his
apartment to change after work.

Frank
loosened his tie and hung up his suit. He realized that he'd left his
other clothing in the car. He finished changing and called Marka
again before going out to get his things. The temperature outside had
dropped considerably. He shivered in his shirt sleeves and trotted
back in the building as quickly as he could. He dropped his clothing
in his room and jogged down to hers. Arriving breathless, he tapped
at the door. Marka opened with a grin.

"Finally!
Dinner's almost ready. Will you open the bottle? It's one of those
tricky wire thingies."

"No
problem. Anything else I can do for you?"

"I'm
sure I'll think of something."

Her
smile held promises that he couldn't even think about collecting on
tonight. He was getting strong vibes from her. She was decidedly
interested—quite possibly as much as he was. But she wasn't going
to give it up to a man she just met. Not that he'd do that anyway.
That wasn't his style. He'd never been a one night stand kind of guy.
He'd done it from time to time, but it wasn't his usual mode of
behavior.

"Frank?
You in lala land?" Marka handed him the bottle.

"Guess
so. Been a long day. I swear, I'm ready for that man to leave."
He explained the current crisis.

"Are
there words to describe a man like him?"

"Haven't
found any that properly do it. Calling him a dick and a douchebag,
while satisfying, don't really do him justice. Insufferable,
insignificant, egotistical prick comes closer."

"My
dad would describe him as the head of a pimple on the ass of the
universe."

"Bingo!
Your dad and I would get along, I bet."

"Like
a house on fire. Remind me never to introduce you." She winked
at him.

"There's
a way to slay my hopes."

"By
not introducing you to my dad?"

"Can't
get a man's opinion if you don't meet him."

"Perhaps
once I have you hopelessly hooked."

"You're
kidding, right? You had me hooked when you asked for toilet paper."

"That's
so incredibly sweet. No man ever fell for me because he saw me on
TV."

"First
time for everything," Frank said, clearing his throat.

It
had finally struck him how his remarks could be interpreted. Not that
he cared, he just didn't want her to think he was some sort of sick,
pathetic, stalker type who hadn't gotten laid in almost a year.

If
the shoe fits, boyo.... Well, not the stalker part.

He
poured them each a glass of the sparkling grape juice. They toasted
one another as well as the meal.

"And
to Mabel Penwarren. May she recover fast so her damn son goes home!"
Frank said.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Frank
Atherton is the assistant director at a nursing home in Ohio. For an
ex-military man, the job may seem a little tame, but he actually
likes the mundane, day to day routine. After the chaos of war, it's
nice to relax. He's happy there, until Ralph Penwarren shows up. An
insufferable man, Penwarren has already made Frank's life hell, and
it's only been a couple hours. Instead of staying at home, Frank
decides to stay on site in one of the guest rooms, in case there is
an emergency with Penwarren. By chance, he meets Dr. Marka
Ventimiglia, a new psychologist on staff.

Frank
hung up, turning back to his visitor. "Sorry. Had a little
problem with a guest. He's a real jerk. In fact, he's the reason I'm
here tonight instead of home—with a beer." He flopped into the
chair with a sigh.

"I
hear a story in that."

"His
name's Ralph Penwarren. His mom lives here. She fell and he blames
us. Long story short, he's going to make us as miserable as possible
before he leaves."

"My
Gran would call him a pip," Marka replied with a sly
grin.

"Mine
would call him a prick," Frank countered. "She's been
married to a Marine for fifty-six years. She doesn't take crap from
anyone. She'd eat Penwarren for lunch."

"Sounds
like you should give her a call."

"Maybe
I will."

They
were laughing quietly over their little joke when someone knocked at
the door. It was Kathy. She bustled past Frank with several rolls of
toilet paper.

"Sorry
it took me so long. I dropped by Dr. Ventimiglia's first, but she
wasn't there. I didn't want to go in.... Oh, hi! I didn't know you
were here."

"I
came to see if he had a spare. That's how he found out he hasn't got
any either."

"All
you have to do is call housekeeping. We'll take care of it. The
numbers should be on top of the TV."

"They
were. I didn't realize there was anyone there at night."

Kathy
smiled, handing her some toilet paper. "Once in awhile someone
gets up and pees the floor or spills. Most nights are pretty quiet. I
inventory and fold sheets, that sort of thing."

"Thanks
for the information. I'll be staying in a guest room for a few weeks.
After that, I'll move into a house in town. They're remodeling. It's
not ready yet."

"Oh,
sweet! What house?"

"The
cute periwinkle blue house on the corner of Main and Fifteenth."

"You'll
love it! My husband helped with the remodel. He finished the floors.
All oak," Kathy said. "It's got a great view of the park
and pond."

"Yes,
I saw. That and the kitchen are the two things that sold me on the
house."

"Kenny
also helped with the cabinets. He's a great carpenter. He works here
part time too."

"I
look forward to meeting him."

"If
there's anything else you need, holler. I'll be sitting in my cave
watching TV and folding sheets." Kathy withdrew, a questioning
look on her face as she passed Frank.

"Night,
Kath. See you in the morning."

"Bright
and early," she replied, winking as she left.

Blushing,
Frank shut the door behind her. "God, we'll be the topic of
gossip for the next week."

"What?
Why?"

He
pointed to himself, then her. "You being here in the middle of
the night—"

"It's
just past ten!"

"Around
here, that's like two o'clock in the morning anywhere else. Be
prepared for it. The entire staff will know before noon and half the
residents by supper."

"I
hate to think what the talk would be like if we were naked." She
paused, reddening. "Sorry."

Frank
burst out laughing. "Don't be. I was thinking it."

"But
you're too much of a gentleman to say it. Sometimes my mouth works
faster than my off switch."

"No,
you just beat me to it."

"You
won't get in trouble, will you?"

"Only
with myself."

She
was clearly puzzled.

"I
handle things like that. Actually, it's flattering."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."
He scratched his head, one hand in his pocket. "Found in a room
with a pretty woman like you— Sorry, now I need my off switch."

Tuesday, September 08, 2015

Gemma
meets Kendrick by chance, and he asks her out. Desperately wanting to
paint her portrait, he invites her to his studio. He isn't as
interested in dating her so much as capturing her essence on the
canvas. When Gemma meets his roommate, Vik, there is an instant
attraction. Unfortunately, they aren't able to deny their attraction
and Kendrick finds them kissing in Vik's studio. He goes somewhat
crazy and beats up Vik. This scene takes place in the hospital when
Vik is being released.

“You
can go ahead and call your driver at any time,” Dr. Hennasy said
with a smile. “I'll get the paperwork rolling.”

“Thank
you so much,” Gemma said.

“We're
going to miss you,” Dr. Hennasy said. “Not because we like you or
anything, Vik. We're going to miss Minerva's treats.”

Giggling,
she scuttled out as he hurled one of his pillows at her. Laughing, he
lay down once more.

“Ow,
that hurt. I should know better than to throw pillows at my doctor.”

“But
isn't that what they're for? The doctors, and the pillows,”
Gemma said as she picked it up.

Vik
chuckled. “They are indeed. I say that a day hasn't really started
well unless one is able to hurl at least one pillow at an
unsuspecting medical professional.”

“Doctors
aren't as much fun to bean as nurses,” Gemma said, putting the
pillow at the end of the bed. “But nurses are generally quicker.”

Holding
his ribs, Vik laughed softly. “Oh, fuck that hurts!”

“I
guess laughter isn't the best medicine for a man with cracked ribs,
hm? We'll make sure that the level of jocularity is kept at a
minimum.”

“Jocularity,”
Vik chuckled. “Yeah, that'll happen.”

James
arrived about forty minutes later, trailing water from his great
coat. “I had to park in east hell,” he complained. “The old man
with the cart wouldn't give me a ride. He said I was fully fit and
able to walk.”

“Bastard,”
Vik said. “What do they pay the old arse for if not to pick people
up?”

“I
think he was beating it,” James said, with a none to subtle hand
gesture. “Can't be sure as the drapes were drawn.”

“Ew!”
Gemma said.

“Sorry,
Miss. You'll have to forgive us menfolk. We can't be trusted in
public.”

“Or
private,” Vik added.

“Nor
there,” James agreed. “Are we about out of here?”

“Just
need to sign the papers,” Vik said.

“I'll
tromp back down to get the car, then,” James said with a sign. “I
tried calling, but you didn't answer. That's the only reason I
shlepped up here.”

Gemma
looked at her phone only to realize it was completely dead. “I
forgot to charge it last night. I'm so sorry, James.”

“Not
a problem, Miss. I'll be back,” he said in a good imitation of
Arnold.

“I
need to get dressed,” Vik said. “I can't do this myself.”

“I
can help,” Gemma said.

Vik's
head popped up, his lips clamped shut. “Uh, no. I have no boxers
on. Not inviting you to that party at this stage of the game.”

Gemma
giggled as he blushed. “I'll get someone.”

“Preferably
a male someone,” Vik called after her.

A
few minutes later, Gemma came back with an orderly. He gladly helped
Vik get dressed while Gemma waited in the hallway. He opened the
door, propping it open when he left. Vik sat on the bed fully
clothed. He patted the bed next to him.

“I
can't wait to get home and shower. Sponge bathes are okay, but they
aren't that much fun.”

“Oh,
I think I could give you a great sponge bath,” Gemma teased.

“You
can't say things like that if I'm going to be celibate the next few
weeks,” Vik said. “I have some self-control, but an invitation
like that gets my imagination pumping. And I have a hell of a good
imagination,” he whispered, leaning toward her.

Tuesday, September 01, 2015

Gemma
is a rich, naïve, innocent woman. She meets Kendrick by chance, and
he asks her out. Mostly, he wants to paint her portrait, but she
isn't sure she wants to. She finally agrees and goes to his studio,
where she meets Vik, his roommate. There is an instant connection,
but they don't want to upset Kendrick, so they keep it under wraps. This scene takes place after
Ken and Vik get some really good news and party a little too hardy.

Persistent
knocking woke Vik the next morning. Ken wasn't on the floor across
from him, but he couldn't have been the one knocking. He had keys and
he was too careful to lock himself out. Vik staggered to the door and
tried to look out the peephole. It seemed to beyond his skill set at
that point, so he opened the door.

Gemma
stood at the door, slightly flushed and in a state of disarray. She
pushed past him, striding into the room. Vik leaned against the door,
which swung shut, nearly trapping his fingers. He pulled them out
just in time and tried to focus on Gemma.

“Hey,”
he said, gulping. “Sorry. We....” He gestured to the apartment.
It took him a moment to realize that the mess was gone and he
wondered, in passing, when that happened. “Celebrating,” he
mumbled. “Hi.”

“Lil
bit.” He held his fingers an inch or so apart. He tried to put his
foot on the step, but it retreated from him, sliding toward the
floor. He missed, tried again and got it that time. “Lil bit,” he
muttered and slowly climbed the stairs.

Ken
wasn't in his bed. It was neatly made. His towel was dry, meaning he
hadn't showered that morning. His toothbrush had been used. It was
slightly damp when Vik touched it. He took a few minutes to empty his
bladder, splash cold water on his face and brush his teeth. He ran
his damp hands through his unruly brown hair and tried to pull
himself together.

“Coffee.
I need coffee.”

The
stairs didn't present quite as big a problem going down, though he
still had to be careful where he placed his feet.

“Are
you okay? Is Ken here?”

“No.
And no.” Vik wandered to the kitchen, heading toward the coffee
pot. It was already set up. “He left coffee, though. Want some?”

“Where
did he go?”

“No
idea. He didn't leave a note. Might have an appointment. Might have
gone to work. Dunno.” He hit the button on the coffee pot on the
third try. Pulling out a stool at the bar in the kitchen, he sat
heavily, unable to move another step. Head perched unsteadily on his
hands, he groaned.

Gemma
took a step back from him, but he turned toward the coffee pot and
she giggled. “You're a mess.”

“Yes.”

“Let
me get that. You'll have it all over the floor.” She took his mug
from him and poured him a cup. “How do you take it?”

“Light
and sweet...like you.” He touched her cheek and burped again.
“Sorry. Shouldn't have said that. Sorry.” He took the mug from
her, gulping the scalding brew. “Ouch! Yep, that's gonna do the
trick. He made it twice as strong.”

Gemma
giggled, taking a smaller mug for herself. She put in her cream and
sugar before joining him at the bar. “So, you were celebrating,
overdid it, can't remember what you're happy about and lost your
roommate? That's it?”

“Yep.”

“Busy
day.”

“Yep.”

“You
can't say anything else yet, huh?”

“Nope.
I don't do this often,” he babbled. “This isn't how I
usually—comport myself.” Vik burped again. “Sorry.” He stood
unsteadily and took a couple Tums from the cupboard over the sink.